


She was not as she seemed, and so much more.

by mallorysendings



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:13:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallorysendings/pseuds/mallorysendings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl's thoughts and reflections on Beth after she was gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a break from my other story "Was not alone" to explore Daryl's character and mind more before I proceed further on my other story. This may be a part of its own separate series.

He Aint never thought to be alone on the road with a leggy wide eyed blond. Weren’t nothin to be too thrilled about neither. The damn girl was about as useful out on the road as an ashtray on a motorcycle. Before now he would never had the young Greene girl be his first pick for dodge ball. But after their first row in the Moonshine shack, he was seen her a bit different. His equal…but different. Truth was he had been seeing her different for a while now. 

Beth was strong, just not in the physical sense. She looked for purpose in life, and was a fast learner. He respected her quick mind, since he had no patience to teach her anything twice. She also had a sharp catty whit that he relished. He aint never met a girl with Beth Greene’s sunny sweetness and sharp tongue. Hell he’d known her for two years now and never picked up on her whit, until they lost everyone, sides each other. If he had known he might have tried to get to know her better sooner. 

Might have been for the best that in the early days he had just wrote her off as a spoiled little blond bitch from the other side of the tracks. But then they left the farm and she showed them all she could help. She did most everything that needed to be tended domestically. Hell she had even stolen his vest and put a fresh stitch in the fraying shoulder seam. She put it back just as he was about to call her out on movin his shit. But then he realized she fixed it and he felt like an ass.

Her sorry wide eyes looked up regretfully at him. “Sorry Daryl…Just did not wish it to fall apart. Kinda like your second skin….keeps ya a layer safer.” 

Feeling strange remorse for his harsh words and he looked away from her and pulled the vest out to look. “Well it aint even straight...” He looked at her realizing how harsh he must still sounded and he changed his tone and words. “But it seems strong enough to hold.” His voice gruff, but measurably softer to the ears. He gazed sidelong at her though his own hooded ones. 

Beth blushed. “Yeah, well… Don’t have the right needle… all I had was a small skinny one and it hurt my fingers to push it through the leather. It was hard enough to get the stich through, harder still to make it straight.” She held up her hands looking at them absently. He noticed how red and bruised her fingertips were, and even some looked punctured. He turned toward her to take a look at her hand with his own he appraised them. 

“Well hell, damn vest aint worth more than your fingers.” He frowned at her his emotions turning cranky again, “fuck, whole place has gone to shit and you risk your fingers for my Hide?” he said holding his vest out in front of him for emphasis. 

She cringed from his reaction. “M sorry Daryl. Won’t touch your stuff ever again.”

Daryl stepped forward a little, getting right in her face. It would seem intimidating to her, but he just wanted to drive home his point, and be nearer to her. “Aint bout that.” His voice higher. It reminded him of a fight between a wife and husband. He shook his head. “Its bout you needin your fucking hands girl. I don’t want to see your hands looking like this again, ya hear?” he said motioning her to get on out of his cell. “Now git.” She nodded and ran away.

Seeing her effort on his behalf he felt strangely humbled by her actions. Hell he had never done anythin for her. And she goes and injures her fingers over his god damned vest? Taint make a lick of sense to him. 

That was the moment he started noticing Beth Greene. He knew she was young, and he felt dirty even entertaining thought on her. She must have been about seventeen or eighteen, and though he had noticed young girls her age before, he had steered well clear of them. 

He knew she had been with the young kid Zach "the talker". Annoying little piss ant, who was actually a damn good shot. He felt instantly bothered whenever he saw Zach an her speaking. Puppy love made his stomach weak. Zach and Beth had traipsed about the prison for weeks actin like their love was a damn romance novel and it grated on him. But that all stopped when Zach died. He felt bad about that. Losing him was another point for the walkers, one less beating heart for their side. That and, he felt none too good about being the bearer of bad news, but he wanted to be the one to tell her. 

She had been writing in her little notebook when he got back from the run. She was probably scribbling about the kid in them pages. 

“Hey” her voice said cheerfully. Like she was happy to see him standing there outside of her cell like a creeper. 

“Hi” his voice thick and constricted. She could sense his uncertainty and her face changed from happy to concern. 

“What is it?” she had asked him. 

And there she was direct and to the point. He sighed and looked down. “It’s Zach.” he brought his eyes back to see her face. 

She looked around on her bed a moment, processing what he had just told her. “Is he dead?” she asked. 

Daryl had found his mouth unable to form a reply. He just faintly nodded and looked down but they did not remain down. 

“Okay,” she shrugged as he saw her lip slightly form a pout, but then her face relaxed calming her forming emotion. He watched her move to sit up on the bed. Feeling mesmerized by her reaction he continued to stand there waiting, but for what? He was unsure. He knew now was the time to let her process her grief and bid her goodnight, but for some reason his feet would not move from that spot. His eyes drawn to her like a magnet. 

He saw her move to her shelf and take a number off one or those high incident work place boards. The number was back to zero and he watched her turn to him in question. “What?” her voice soft. 

He did not know what she was asking. Why was he still there? He just shook his head in response, unable to discern what she was asking of him. He had nothing to say. He did not know how to offer this girl comfort. He just found himself watching her face, and her big doe eyes. 

“I don’t cry anymore Daryl.” She told him taking a step closer to him. She was now trying to assure him that she was alright. Her voice calm and measured. “I’m just glad I got to know him, ya know.” She said walking right up to him. 

He was slightly overwhelmed by her proximity that he found himself speaking uncertain. “Ya me too.” That was bullshit, the kid annoyed the crap outta him, and he did not like him hanging around Beth. But regardless, did not want the kid dead. He just wanted to tell her something you’re supposed to say when you lose someone. Whether it is true or not. 

Her eyes flitted around and then back at him, she looked confused. Maybe she had been wondering why he was still hanging around outside her cell. “Are you okay?” she asked. She knew that him an Zach were not really all that close. 

He looked down. He shook his head. “Jus tired of losin people, s’all.” He replied with a shrug. Weren’t really a good idea to tell her what was really going on in his head. He was still standin there just cause he liked lookin at her. She was by far the prettiest face he had seen since the dead did not stay down. 

But then she moved into him for a hug and he was both unable to stop and did not wish to. He had not been touched by a woman in comfort in longer than he could remember and he just froze for a minuet absorbing the touch of another person. His hand found her elbow and he managed to half way reciprocate. Her head tucked under his chin and against him brought him warmth in his chest he was unaccustomed to feeling. 

“I’m glad I didn’t say goodbye. I hate goodbye’s” she said into his chest. 

He felt his throat constrict. “Me too,” his voice thick as he watched her move away from him. He found himself under her penetrative stare. He knew she was unsure what to say to him so he shifted on his foot uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Watching her adjust her sweater that had fallen off her shoulder had him feeling very warm and he felt his feet free up from where they had been rooted. “I ugh… best wash up and eat.” He mentioned. “Want me to send Maggie in here?” he asked.

Beth shook her head. “No, I just…” she sighed. “I will be fine.” She blinked and looked back up at him and smiled sadly. “Thanks for being the one to tell me.” She backed into her cell and sat on the bed.”

He shook his head. “Weren’t nothin.” He nodded and pulled himself from her cell. He had wasted enough time on the girl. She was off limits, but at that moment he was entertainin some cozier thoughts about her bony limbs in his. She could do with a little more meat on her bones. He kept reminding himself she was too young and the daughter of one of the few men he had ever respected. That made her off limits to him. 

He had kept away from her after that. Never went out of his way to talk to her again while at the prison. He saw to it that he was too busy than to linger inside the cell block where she most certainly was throughout the day. 

But when the prison fell and they had been out there alone, he could not just avoid her. So he tried the next best thing, he ignored her. He had done it to keep her pissed off enough at him to stay back. He did not need the touchy feely shit out here where they had been surviving. That was till the moonshine shack. They both went through some heavy shit that night, and he found a respect for her that night as well. She proved to him that she could not just be ignored, would not just be brushed aside. 

That night he had been a royal dick to her, and yet she still walkin beside him, an talkin to him. He admired her ability to put the past where is belonged. And focus on what was right in front of her. Its why she picked up trackin so quick. Beth Greene was not easily distracted.

He come out the prison with Beth and wound up tryin to be the man she thought he was. Even said he was. But it all made him confused. Them alone together an him changing because of her with no one else around got is mind going places he fought going only a matter of weeks before. His brothers voice would pop into his head from time to time laughing as he called him out for the pervert he was. “Oooh ee, you like em young, Guess the famous Dixon mojo is strong in you my boy!” he heard him laugh and nearly cackle gleefully. ”Thought you only went for cougars and tall dark sheriffs. But now you are scoring in on a mighty fine piece my brother. Wish I was alive to take my share of that fine ass.” Daryl never liked hearing his brother in his head as if he were alive. He could not just tell him to fuck off, cause he weren’t even really there. 

He never felt so lost till Beth was taken, he almost welcomed his brothers voice inside of his head then. That night he had been sitting at that kitchen table, comfortably with her. The only light a candle on the table. he had just made a decision to let her know what he was thinkin in regards to their future. Maybe settle in someplace, perhaps even there in that funeral home, and see if they had something between the two of them, if he ever got up the nerve to ask her. 

But it had been too late. They should have left that house as quickly as they could. It never felt quite right, but that faith and good people Beth had been going on about had nearly got him convinced to have a little himself. But he had been right. The place was too good to be true. He paid for his negligence now. Beth was taken. And now he found himself really and truly alone.


	2. His salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty difficult to maintain Daryl's voice. Not exactly sure where i am going here or what i am doing. I guess this is just an experimental piece. Should i continue? Or stop? I could really use some feed back here.

It was all over, Last man… Like she had told him. Daryl had looked around helplessly at the cross road. His hope and faith that Beth had stoked to the surface inside him just hours before was fading. There weren’t no good people left, cept Beth. She just might have been the last one. 

Her words echoed inside his head. “You’re gonna be the last one standing.” He looked around hoping to see her walking towards him. He felt disoriented. When he saw that he was still alone his feet gave out in hopelessness and exhaustion. She had been right. Daryl was a man who needed to find a purpose, a will to go on and she had been that. Without her he did not think he really cared what happened to him. He had nothing left. “You got no one who loves you boy, no one who would want ya.” His dead father’s voice played out in his head. He shook it trying to dispel the vile man’s voice. “You just tag along, followin whoever will let ya. Worthless boy, only good for a beating lil bastard.” Daryl muttered to himself. “Only reason for keepin ya around.” 

Daryl heard the gravel and asphalt crunching beneath measured live steps. He debated looking up. What was the point of seeing who was coming? It was easy to tell that they were the steps of the living and he cursed inside his mind. Sighing he absorbed the moment listening the crickets and birds hum in the distance and trying to decide what he would do. Part of him just wanted to stay put and not move, ever. Just sit there and die. 

He had a good run of it. Two years surviving the end of humanity. Now was as good a time as any. 

Listening to their approach he recalled Andrea, after losing her sister. She had wanted to opt out. He had thought it was pathetic back then. Beth had also tried to end herself when she had slit her wrists after the barn incident. But they both had found a reason to live. He just needed time to find his reason to carry on. He did not know if he even wanted time. 

His mind followed to Beth, he felt strangely choked up recalling the light blue shade of her eyes, The smooth surface of her cheek. His brother’s voice interrupted his train of thought. “You pansy ass pussy boy, fell for a bitch and you still fallin. Fallin six feet under if you don’t watch it baby brother.” Daryl sighed heavily in response “It’s crowded here in hell. Sure you want to come?” his brothers voice asked in his head.

He had so desperately wanted to find her, to catch up to whom ever took her. Pushed his legs father and longer than ever in search for her. Did the same for Sophia. But not to exhaustion when she had gone missing. It felt all too familiar to him. “Best you stop searchin for poon tang, I spect its rotting bout now. Stop looking lil brother before it kills you. No bitch is worth your life. That is unless you searching for some strange.” His brother’s voice broke into a cackle. ”If that’s the case, I might stick around for a while.” Daryl ground his teeth hearing the footsteps closer still and his brothers laughter in his head.

“Would not kill ya to have a little faith.” Beth’s voice echoed over his brothers in his mind. Faith she was alive still… Faith she would know how to take care of herself. Doubt clouded his thoughts and he struggled reasoning with himself. She was not experienced as he was… if she managed to evade her captors she was not likely to survive the wilderness and the walkers that occupied it. She has said he saw her as “another dead girl”… But that was not true when she was with him. “Pretty soon I won’t need you at all.” She had teased. He had found her jibe humorous because he had doubted her words. How could she ever not need him? What he had not realized was how much he needed her. 

Now gone all he saw was walker Beth in his mind. Her yellow shirt torn and bloodied. Her hair matted and dirty. The shine from her blond hair dulled by death. The vision made him just wanted to give up. Never stand again… He could not be the last man standing, because without Beth that’s just about the saddest thing he has ever thought. 

“Well look at you…” came a heavy voice. 

He ventured a slight glance up and counted how many he thought there were. Then person one who spoke stepped closer. Too close. 

“Have a little faith Daryl…” Beth’s voice whispered in his ear. “Stand and fight.” 

Maybe he could. He lashed out cuffing the guy off the side of his head, and snatched up his bow and stood as quickly as he could training his bow on the leader. His eye making contact instantly with even colder ones. 

Daryl was now standing and from the looks of it he was far from being the last man. Beth was wrong…


	3. What for?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still following the path of Daryl in the last episodes of season four. He realizing a few things about himself, and his feelings for others. But its too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the Kudos on this work. I am a newer writer and it means a lot to see people take the time to say they like it otherwise i might just give up and think eh, i must be rubbish at this. thank you.

Daryl reclined back on his garbage sack, his right arm slung over his face blocking out his present reality. The tense conversation was reduced to a background lull to him. He would not open his eyes and acknowledge the staring of one of the group members who they called Len. It had been a long day of hyper anxiety and awareness, since his run in with that jack off who “Claimed” his rabbit. The group was hostile, but he was not sure what they really were… If his brother an him had not met up with the Atlanta group, he may have been just like them, roaming the country side. 

His mind wandered to Lens words to him this morning. “I bet …this bitch, Got you all messed up.” He nodded wearing a smug smile. “Mmh? Am I right?” 

Daryl could feel the anger rising inside of him. He had learned to control himself in tense situations on account of his brother always being in em. So he took slow controlled breaths and went to move around him, avoiding where this conversation was going. He understood what Len had meant, sure as hell did not wish him to know that what he said was true. 

“Gotcha walkin around here… Like a dead man. Lost yourself a piece of tail.” He said behind his back. 

Daryl slowed. He had not intentionally thought of Beth as a potential mate for him, but his time with her and the intimacy he had reached with her… He had never had that really with anybody. No real friends to speak of. Didn’t settle down and marry…hell he did not even date, just a trail of one night stands that his brother goaded him into. Not even Carol had got as close as he felt to Beth. He had found himself wondering what his life would have been like had he met someone like Beth when he had been younger and she a little bit older. 

“Musta been a good un. Tell me something?” he hesitated. “Was it one of the lil uns?” 

Daryl felt his control snapping. Beth was young…Too young. He reached for his knife and unsnapped it and stood ready. 

“Cause they don’t last too long out here.” Len leered shaking his head, implying Beth would not have what it takes to survive this harsh world. Daryl pulled his knife ready as he listened to the asshole cackle. 

Either one of them would have been dead right now if it had not been for Joe interfering. He recalled the feeling of rage he had been about to unleash, hadn't even felt that when he had been angry about Merle cuffed to the roof, or when Beth and him argued in the shack. He resented the man’s words because they had a ring of truth to them, though Daryl hated to admit it. Damn hillbilly thought he knew him, didn't help that he had a good guess. Made him think on Beth in a way he tried to avoid. He had never been so angry, enough to kill over. Just for sayin a few words about who he had lost. 

He did not wish to stay with this group much longer, But a few things Joe had said to him kinda stuck in his head. Joes group was a simple group, “Just gotta follow the rules.” He had said. “toe the line, son. Just follow the rules”, his dad had said. Problem was his father’s rules had a habit of changing. 

Joe reminded him of his father the few times he was sober. Maybe that was why he stayed. His father was familiar, Joe felt familiar. The group was a bunch of low life’s like him and his brother. They were not people Beth would consider good. And he knew it. 

But now with them oddly familiar felt like it no longer fit. Joe had said “nothing was sadder that an outdoor cat who thinks he’s an indoor cat.” He knew what he had meant, and he was wrong on one account. He belonged with his people. They had accepted him, had allowed him to prove himself. Learned to trust him. 

Still he always felt like an outcast from the group before, but found a real place when he was with Beth. One that he had been becoming alright with. But now she was gone, he was now a lost soul and Joe was the devil, telling him to be with him. “You should be with us.” He had said. “Don’t got to be friendly, nice brothers in arms.” He had said. “Just gotta follow the rules.” Joe concluded. Daryl was good at following. He had been doing it for so long he did not know how not to, first his dad, Merle after, then Rick. He had even let Beth take the lead after she insisted on searchin for booze. It was just easier to follow.  
Daryl stood with a growl and left his bag on the concrete to go take a piss and have a smoke he had taken off a walker. It was old and damp but it still caught fire. He inhaled deeply and unzipped his pants. He listened to the stream hitting the ground below the steps and took in a deep drag. 

“You need to put it away Daryl.” Came her voice inside his head. Almost embarrassed he zipped up his pants and looked around. “They are not good people. You don’t belong with them.” Her voice now a whisper. He wanted to curse at her inside his head, and tell her off. But he didn’t, he was too afraid he would stop hearing her voice. It was all he had of her, was the memory and his overactive imagination.

“You are not like them you know.” Her voice rang in his head. Was he going insane? Seemed reasonable considering it was the end of the world and he had lost everyone in his life he had ever cared for. When he had fallen down the cliff looking for Sophia he hallucinated his brother, and he goaded him into living. Daryl had assumed his brother was dead and haunting him, or that he had hit his head harder that he thought. But his brother had ended up being alive so he could not have been haunted. He took another deep drag of his cigarette and concluded that he just might be insane. 

Heck, nough of his kin folk had their mental issues. He threw out the butt and spit into the grass. Didn’t really matter if he was sane or not. Not anymore. His boots echoed on the ground a little as he made his way to his bag on the floor. He reclined back on it and put another cigarette in his mouth but did not light it. 

Stay or leave, either way he did not have Beth. His life served little purpose these days. For now he would just rest and think of Beth an him when they was together. When he had last been happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i am pretty much trying to faithfully follow the show here,so its pretty cannon. only its my interpretation of the internal mental and emotional motivations being explained through Daryl. 
> 
> Yes in this story he seems a bit insane. I think he hallucinated his brother back at the farm in season two one, because he had a head injury, and two because he had lost faith in himself. I wonder if hearing voices could be a survival coping mechanism? That is my theory with him still hearing voices, he is teetering between losing faith and clinging to it here. 
> 
> For those who follow my other stories, i suffered a huge loss with a computer crash. I am currently playing catch up and trying to recover a lot of lost work... Please forgive me! Any way enjoy this! I hope!

Daryl just laid there on the cold slab of concrete. His vest the only barrier against the chill but he had ‘claimed’ no better place for himself. He rested his eyes just thinkin how pointless it all was without Beth. Worryin about her had become his job, but now his only job was breathin in and out… and that was fuckin depressing. Hell if he just lit his next smoke finally he would inch his way close to death without even tryin. 

Ugh, what he wouldn’t do for a carton of Marlboros… But her voice kept him alive, yappin on in his head tellin him to have some faith. Faith… Everyone he knew was gone. It was just him, and some worthless woodsmen thugs no better than him or his brother. 

“Got to be kidding me…” came Len’s voice. “Christ.” 

Yanked from his thoughts of Beth and being all alone his attention was now on Len... the most volatile and loose cannon of the group. Daryl pulled the cinnamon stick from his mouth that he had been chewing on as he sat up. He knew he was dangerous. He already resolved that if he chose to stay with the group the man would have to meet with an accident of sorts or Len was going to take him out first. 

“Give it here.” Len demanded approaching him. 

Daryl frowned confused but did not back down. “You step back.” Still in the sitting position on the cold slab concrete. “You on the lower ground you dumb shit…should have played along and claimed like you was told to do.” his brothers voice cut in his head as his full focus was on Len ignoring the voice.

“My half was in the bag.” Len gestured behind him to the place he had ‘claimed’ for himself. 

Daryl took note that the entire group was now watching them tense ready for a fight. Joe was walking casually closer. 

“And now it’s gone.” Len continued. “Now aint nobody round here interested in no half a damn cotton tail, cept you.” He pointed at Daryl menacingly. 

“You’re the one here thinkin about that crap.” Daryl’s voice growled as he stepped closer making it clear he was not backing down. 

“Empty your bag.” Len stepped closer demanding satisfaction. 

Daryl yanked the bag back. “I said step back.” He said. This was bad… He knew these accusations put him in danger… Did he really care? 

Joe snatched the black trash bag out of Daryl’s hand as he relinquished it without a fight. His gut told him Joe might be a fair man… 

“Did you take his rabbit Daryl?” he asked him pointedly. “Tell me the truth.” 

Daryl glared. “I didn’t take nothin.” he squinted his eyes a fraction. 

Joe sighed. “Ugh, what do we got here?” the leader ruffled the sac a bit, “Come on.” then dumps out the contents which weren’t much. That was all he had in the world… some cinnamon sticks some sticks of gum and an old flannel shirt, Wasn't much to fight over, but it was all he had. Last to topple out was the rest of the rabbit Len was accusing him of taking.

“Well, well.” Joe said thoughtfully. 

Daryl was pissed, he didn’t take it. “Ya put that there dint you?” he accused back at Len, the man who set him up. “When I went out there to take a piss?” he pushed physically at his accuser who did not back down.

“You lied.” Len said quiet. 

“Didn’t you?” Daryl accused again their fight now physically escalating. 

“You lied and you stole.” Len pushed back at him. “We gonna teach this fool or what, Joe?” 

Joe eyed the situation watching gauging when he would need to step in. 

“Ho woah, woah…” he stepped in and put himself between Len and him facing Len. “Now Daryl says he didn’t take your half of the rabbit. We got a little conundrum here…” He turned and looked back at Daryl. 

“Joe Shmoe aint gonna believe you, baby brother.” His brother’s voice echoed in his head. “Down here’s hotter than a billy goats ass in a pepper patch baby brother.” He chuckled. 

Joe was looking at him but still talkin to Len. “So either he lyin, which is an actionable offense, Or…” he turned back to Len chuckling. “Or, you didn't plant it on him like some pussy, punk ass cheatin coward cop now did’ja?” he asked smiling. Len looked at him with a hint of fear in his dark cold eyes. “Cause while that wouldn't be specifically breakin the rules…It’d be disappointing.”

Len nodded. “It would.” Agreeing but leaned forward at Joe. “I didn’t.” he showed his teeth a little reminding Daryl of a cat showing its teeth to an enemy. 

Joe nodded and patted him on the arm. “Good.” He turned back to face Daryl. “Well…” he turned back to Len unexpected and clocked him to the side of the head knocking him to the ground. 

“Teach him a lesson gent’s.” He said to the group standing having watched the whole altercation. “Lying sack of shit, I’m sick of it.” The group started crowding Len and kicked at him. “Teach him all the way.” Was the last order Joe gave before turning back to Daryl and sighed. “I saw him do it.” He admitted.

Daryl was confused with this. “Why’ int you try an stop him?” what the fuck was this guy’s motives? 

He shrugged and shook his head. “He wanted to play that out I let him.” Joe looked at him and pointed. “You told the truth, an he lied.” He nodded. “You understand the rules,” he pointed back to Len who was still grunting in pain as they kicked and punched at him. “He doesn’t.” 

Daryl looked back at the man just moments before he wanted to kill himself having the life beaten out of him by a group of thugs. In a strange way he felt sorry for him. But it served as a warning to him, don’t cross Joe. 

“Looks like you get to keep the head too.” Joe tossed the top half of the rabbit at him. He stuffed it back in his sack listening to the’ thunk’s’ and ‘oof’s’ of Len’s life being taken. He had to hand it to Joe, he had some theory on justice in the group. They had a code… That was something, maybe they weren’t good… But who was now days? He still did not know if he was leavin them or stayin with em… He would decide tomorrow. 

“There are still good people Daryl…” her voice ghosted over the background noise. “I thought I made you change your mind.” Her voice whispered inside his mind. “You need to leave them and find our people… our family.” 

He shook his head as his eyes drifted closed. “Nah girl.” He said inside his head. “You know they’s gone.” He muttered to himself and drifted off tuning the dying mans’ please for life from his head as he slept uneasily. 

He woke with a start hearing the metal shop door sliding open. He was confused with his surroundings for a moment. His memory of the night before coming back and he looks to the place where Len had been killed. Blood marked the place. 

“That could have been you, baby brother.” Merel’s gravely familiar voice spoke. “Just fuckin lucky Joe Shmoe saw him do it.” He laughed. “Walk softly baby brother, this guy makes up the rules as he goes.” 

“Don’t you feel anythin?” Beth asked him. “You know this aint right. You don’t belong with them.” She said firmly. Almost chastising him he could hear the disappointment in her voice. He joined the group filing out of the shop moving on nearly silently. 

“I’m starting to agree with little miss sunshine here.” His brother laughed. “Hey jail bait Barbie.” His brother said acknowledging Beth in his head. Great, now the voices in his head were talking with each other. He was going insane…

He looked over the edge of the steps and the voices in his head went silent. Len lay there bloody and broken. A bolt from his bow in his right eye. He looked back at the group disgusted for a moment with how they discarded his body. No respect for him what so ever… He had been one of them and they just left him out like so much trash. Beth would never do something like that…Herschel, rick… Carol. His people would never do that. He looked down to his feet and picked up the bloodied dirty grey blanked as he went to cover his body with some kind of reverence that his own people would have done…But then he stopped. He wasn’t like any of them, he wasn’t good at all. He tossed the blanket aside. He belonged with people like this… people like Len were forgotten. 

He caught up with Joe and found himself talking with him sharing hooch, the voices in his head were quiet now.

Joe mostly did the talking while he just listened. ”Why Len, He seemed to bring in in the least amount of supplies.” Joe handed him the flask he had just taken a heavy swig from. 

Daryl started to take a deep drink himself since it was offered. “I’d start slow if I was you. Your stomach’s probably emptier than you think.” Joe warned him. 

Daryl liked the taste. Better than the moonshine he had with Beth he handed it back. “I haven’t been lit a ton since before everything fell apart.” He admitted. Before everything happened he was always lit cause Merle was always high. Could be around him unless he was altered as well. 

“Fell apart, I never looked at it like that.” Joe said putting his flask back. “Seems to me like things are finally startin to fall together.” He scratched his nose. “Least for guys like us.” He said again implying he and him were one and the same… Maybe he was right. 

“Livin like this… surviving.” Joe gestured to their surroundings. “We been doing this from the start right?” he asked him rhetorically as they approached some tracks and a sign that had gotten his attention.

“Getting closer.” One of Joe’s men said as the rest of them started heading up the tracks. 

Daryl’s focus was on the sign. He read it and pointed. “You see this before?” he asked Joe. 

“Oh yeah, I’ll tell you what it is…” he said looking up at it. “It’s a lie.” He turned his head and looked at him seriously. “Aint no sanctuary for all.” He scoffed as he headed on. “Think they are gonna welcome guys like you an me with open arms?” 

Daryl looked back at the sign. Maybe not him he silently thought, but maybe survivors from the prison. 

“See.” Beth’s voice said in his head. “Hope.” She whispered a little too smugly for his taste. 

Daryl caught up with Joe. “So’s that’s where we’re headed?” he asked. 

“So now your askin?” Joe asked tryin to discern if he was staying on with their group. 

“Tha’s right.” Daryl confirmed. He would stay at least for now. 

“We were in a house, minding our own business and ah… this walkin piece of fecal matter was hinding in the home.” Joe’s started explaining what had happened the day before he met them. “ Strangled our colleague Lou, an left him to turn…Lou cam at all us.” He shook his head. “He lit out. We tracked him to these tracks.” His hand gestured. “an one of those sign’s and thus we got a destination in mind.”

Daryl suddenly wondered if it could have been one of his own people. “See his face?” he asked. 

Joe gestured up the tracks. “Only Tony, an that’s enough for a reckoning.”

Daryl noticed the man ahead of him was looking at something along the tracks and Daryl looked down. Bright red strawberries grew. Maybe only four or five, but it would be something more to fill his belly. “Claimed.” He said quickly acquiescing to the rules of the group. Better get used to it if he was to stay. Just as he bagged it he noticed Michonne’s favorite candy bar wrapper. He recalled her fighting over the candy spoils with Carl back at the prison. 

Maybe it wasn’t just coincidence. He should at least stick with the group long enough to know who they were tracking. 

“I knew it.” Beth’s voice said confidently. “You do have faith.” 

He pressed on tryin to ignore her words bouncing around in his head. She was gone, she wasn’t in his head. Not really.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding hope again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my slower stories. Being inside Daryl's head is hard sometimes. He is such a tortured soul i cant help but feel a bit tormented after writing his thoughts. I will update this.... But maybe not soon. This IS NOT finished and will go through EVERY episode through Coda and the second half of season five, but like I said, i wont be updating it daily like many of my other stories.

It was dark now, and Joe had not allowed them to make camp. It was dangerous to move in the dark. You could stumble upon a herd and not really even realize it. But the tracks were fresh that they followed right before the sun went down too far. They were maybe only an hour behind who they were tracking and Joe had no intention of stopping. 

Daryl had no fight with the people Joe was after. So he decided to guard their back instead. He didn’t want to be involved, and he wanted an out just in case things with them went south. Turned out Joe actually wanted him to hang back... “watch them work.” He said as his hand clapped him on the back conspiratorially. Thinking he was with them. Daryl knew he was only with them till they got close to Terminus, then he was gone. Like Beth was tellin him, he didn’t belong with them. He realized it the night Len was killed. 

“Today is the day of reckoning sir. Restitution.” Joe’s voice boasted. “A balancing of the whole damn universe.” He ranted on. 

Daryl’s feet moved closer to see what Joe’s group was capable of. Still glancing behind him to be sure Joe’s loud voice didn’t attract walkers. 

“Shit and I was thinkin of turning in fer the night on New year’s eve.” Joe laughed excitedly, his men all smiling and silent waiting for his command. It was an awkward interaction.

Daryl moved close enough he was in disbelief. Michonne’s Dred’s were iconic and he recognized them anywhere. As was the man on the ground. Rick. Joe's gun was pressed against his head. His people.

He rubbed his eyes trying to make sure he wasn’t seeing things since he had nearly gotten used to hearin things. “See faith.” Her voice whispered quiet now than ever before. He feared it was leavin him. His feet stepped forward and his bow dropped down to his side. 

“Now who’s gonna count down the ball dropper with me? Huh?” Joe asked his men. “Ten Mississippi…Nine Mississippi… Eight Mississippi.”

Finally Daryl found his voice. “Joe.” He was close enough now to see the whites of their eyes. The look on their faces hurt. They looked surprised to see him with these men that held them at gun point. “Hold up.” He asked. 

“Your stopping me on eight, Daryl.” He edged in closer as Joe stated the obvious. 

“Just hold up.” He asked. 

“This is the guy that killed Lou so we got nothin to talk about.” Said the sliver hared man carrying a semi automatic weapon. 

“The thing about now days is, we got nothing but time.” Joe said philosophically. “Say your peace Daryl.” He acquiesced, his gun still above Rick’s ear. He wasn’t backing down…Just holding up. 

“Save them.” Beth’s voice whispered in his head. 

“These people… You gonna let them go.” He said seriously. “These are good people.” He just had to make Joe see. 

Joe smiled and nodded. “Now I- I think Lou would disagree with you on that.” He put his hand on his chest. “I’ll o’course haf’ta speak for him and all cause your friend here strangled him in a bathroom.” He said with a light air. 

Daryl was running out of options. “You want blood?” he nodded. “I get it.” He dropped his bow offering himself up without a fight. “Take it from me man.” He put his hands up. Joe could not kill his family when he offered himself up as trade. “Come on man?” 

Joe looked surprised but resolved. “This man killed our friend.” He pointed. “You say he’s good people.” He shook his head raising his finger and shaking it. “See now that right there i- is a lie.” He noticeably stuttered. 

Daryl dropped his arms his shoulders slumping in defeat. “See baby bro, you gonna get yourself killed for officer friendly.” His brother’s voice echoed cautiously to him. 

Before he could get the words out to deny Joe’s accusation the butt of a gun slammed into the side of his face nearly knocking him to the ground. He was seeing stars and his ear was ringing from the impact. 

“Teach him fella’s. Teach him all the way.” They all heard Joe say. 

Daryl accepted the blows. At least he found them. At least Beth had been right about some of them surviving. 

“Fight.” Her voice rang out in his head loudly. “Daryl!” she shouted.

“Blondie’s right. Fight Darlina.” His brother’s voice joined hers. “Joe said teach him all the way.” Merle’s voice sounded more concerned than he was before. 

Daryl’s face slammed into the hood of the suburban the force bouncing him back to his feet. He tried to dodge the next blows but he was too stunned. He was not catching what was happening between Rick and Joe anymore…Rick was on his own now, he was too busy trying to fight back for his own life. 

But the tables turned in an instant. All Daryl could see was Ricks mouth covered in blood like a walkers. Joe was on the ground now and his men froze distracted momentarily. It gave Daryl the chance to get his bearings and fight back. Michonne had taken care of the man who held her at gun point and blew the back of his head off in the blink of an eye while the man’s attention was directed elsewhere. 

In a matter of moments they were very nearly alone with everyone else dead in Joe’s group. Daryl now hung off the side of the truck for balance, clutching his side looking to see how everyone held up. He was just in time to witness Rick slaughter the fat man who tried to rape Carl. His long blade went in at the man’s groin and he sliced up with a deliberate upwards motion. It was in slow motion in Daryl’s head watching Rick slice the man open from dick to throat. 

It was when he was dead, the last one of Joe’s men rattled his last breath and Rick was stabbing the man’s corpse that Daryl realized he did not hear her voice anymore. There was silence save for the squishing sound that Ricks slaughter made. 

Maybe he took enough blows to his head to silence all of them. He would worry about that later. He had found family… She was right. They weren’t the only ones to survive. Very nearly didn’t survive the night, but they were, alive. 

A hope he had not nurtured since the night at the funeral home before she had been taken from him fanned to life like wind to a dying fire. She’s alive… Beth is alive.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I last updated this over a year ago. Seeing them kill off Beth snatched away my hopes for this story to have a happy ending. I am not sure this will continue, i just wanted to work towards finishing this up since there is an entire season that i could use to mirror his own personal thoughts with what the group faces in season 5. Let me know if you care about this story continuing.

Dragging Joe off to the ditch he shook his head. Fuckin asshole didn't listen. The leader wasn't good… Hell he was bad, but not as bad as his ole man. His thoughts quieted as he tried to listen for Beth or his brother again. Maybe they had some input to impart on the situation. After a moment of silence he sighed heavily, they were gone from him. He glanced over to the suburban to see Rick sitting on the other side. He had been sitting there for a good while. Saying nothing to no one while he cleared out the dead. He seemed the most affected by what had happened in the darkness. He had seen this look in his eyes once before. The weeks after he lost Lori. He was a lost man…like he had just been. 

Digging in Joe’s pack he ruffled around looking for supplies. Finding some water he went to Rick. The man looked like a walker with blood all over his face. He needed to wash that off along with the look in his eye. His friend was beginning to look like a man on the edge of no return. 

Digging his handkerchief our of his back pocket he poured the water into it. 

“We should save it to drink.” Protested Rick from his seated position against the tire. 

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, you cant see yourself. But he can.” He said referring to Carl who could be bothered by seeing blood all over his fathers face. The evidence of the life he had taken.

Rick accepted the damp cloth and looked at it a fraction of a second before he started to scrape at the dried DNA of a dead man. 

Daryl sat down beside him wanting to explain how it was that he was with such people. “I didn’t know what they were.” 

“How’ed you wind up with em?” Truth be told he wanted to know what would drive Daryl to join such a rough and immoral crew. He imagined Daryl would have been just fine out there alone. Probably prefer it to some degree. 

Daryl didn't really know what to say… He hadn't verbalized Beth’s disappearance yet. But he felt compelled to now. “I’s with Beth.” he had to pause after saying her name. He realized he had not said it since he screamed out her name for the last time just days before.

Upon hearing Beth’s name Rick could feel his stomach drop to the asphalt ground he sat on. He knew where this was headed and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it.   
“We got out together.” he went on. “I’s with her for a while.” 

Rick could feel and sense the loss. His own loss as well, he had to ask. “She dead?”

Daryl looked a little brighter as he looked up glad to be spared from saying that she was. “She is just gone.” the glint in his eye told him that the bow man chose to believe she was still alive. Nodding Rick came to terms with his own grief and settling on the fact that she must be. Girl like her alone she would not survive out here. 

“After that, thats when they found me.” he continued to explain what happened and how he would take up with such a nasty shit group. He didn't want Rick to think he was really like them. Didn't want to be. “I mean i knew they were bad, but…they had a code. It was simple…Stupid. But it was something.” he said thinking about Beth inside his head. “It was enough” Enough to keep him trying.

“And you were alone.” Rick sensed his agitation with being counted as a part of Joe’s group. 

Daryl did not respond to that statement. He couldn't go there. “Said they were looking for some guy, Last night they said they spotted em. I’s hanging back, I’s gonna leave…But I stayed.” Not entirely sure why he kept ignoring Beth’s voice in his head, which told him to leave. In the end he was glad he didn’t. “Thats when I saw it was you three. Right when you saw me.” he shook his head slightly. “I didn't know what they could do…” 

Rick cocked his head. “Its not on you Daryl.” When Daryl looked down Rick tried again. “Hey, Its not on you.” he implied Beth, and the prison, the Gang, None of it. “You being back with us here, Now…Thats everything.” Rick thought for a moment but wanted Daryl to know how highly he thought of him. “Your my brother.” he once thought Shane had been like a brother. But here, right now… Daryl was his true brother. He had been willing to lay down his life for all of theirs. 

Daryl felt a strange sense of acceptance from Rick similar to the feeling he had grown to feel with Beth and Carol. Like they knew who he was better than he even knew himself. Thought him a better man than he knew himself to be. He leaned his head back a little realizing that his brother Merl was not in his head making a wise crack about how homoerotic the conversation could seem from the outside. Not even and echo of his voice. And he was dead… He saw him dead. 

Breaking the emotional tension he looked over. “Hey, what you did last night, Anyone would have done it.” thinking about himself he would have, if it had been Beth under threat. 

Rick shook his head. “No, not that.” Thinking slicing a man from his dick to carotid artery was a bit far, even for crazy. 

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, somethin’ happened. That ain’t you.” he wanted Rick to know he didn't need to go there again. What had happened the night before didn't need to change him. 

“Daryl you saw what I did to Tyreese. It ain’t all of it, but thats me. Thats why I'm here now, Why Carl is. I want to keep them safe. Thats all that matters.” he replied. 

Daryl realized that Rick was confessing a major change in his own morality and hope. Rick was now living purely on survival alone. To hell with good or bad anymore. He wondered how Hershel or Beth would feel… What would Beth say? 

But she’s just gone….


End file.
